


love hangover

by jupiterrism



Series: heart upon my sleeve [2]
Category: Bumilangit Cinematic Universe, Gundala (2019)
Genre: M/M, i dunno man prolly ooc, pengkor is moping, this is what a liter of coffee gave me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2021-01-03 15:38:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21181859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jupiterrism/pseuds/jupiterrism
Summary: Haedar is moping and Ridwan is mildly terrified of his kids.





	love hangover

His blurring vision is a sign for him to wrap his work up and head home. Ridwan sighs, bringing a hand up to rub the bridge of his nose before he gathers the papers scattered on his desk, shoving them into his messenger bag. Before 5 PM, Ridwan is known by everyone as the neat freak, documents stacked in order and never a single piece of paper folded around the corner. Everything is organized alphabetically — Hasbi could be found groaning at that.

But it's 9 PM already and headache has started to bloom behind his lids. He's forgotten dinner again, Ridwan supposes — he might have heard Hasbi offering him dinner and he might have said 'no'. But now his stomach is growling, already edging towards pain, and he forces the ache down in favor to clear his desk.

A knock on the door causes him to pause and Ridwan considers the door with a frown. Didn't Hasbi say he went home at 7?

"Masuk." His voice now shades towards wary; most people had already gone home at 5 PM. So whoever this person is —

The door slides open, revealing a face he hasn't seen for a while. Ridwan straightens up, eyes growing wide.

"Cantika." The girl offers him a tentative smile before stepping inside and closes the door behind her. Most people would regard this with caution — it is a rare occasion for one of Haedar's children dropping by the parliament office. He is the most famous parliament member, though not in a good way. "Ada apa?"

Her smile grows into a wider one before it dims into a slight quirk on her lips. She takes several steps towards his desk, eyes trained on the mess that is his bag. "Lembur, Pak?" she hums, helping him gathering the papers into one neat stack.

Ridwan has stopped clearing his space altogether in favor of giving the younger a shrug, flashing a sheepish grin. He realizes that she didn't answer his question. "Ngga juga," he pauses, blowing out a heavy sigh. "Saya lupa pulang."

When Cantika only stares at him with her unreadable stare — probably taught by Haedar — and Ridwan arches an eyebrow towards her. "Haedar," he says, only to see a flicker of emotion flashes in her eyes. Ridwan has always thought Cantika is able to mask her feelings, suppress but not letting it eating her from the insides. That's what Haedar does on a daily basis — he rages but instead blurring his judgement, it makes him more vicious.

"Haedar kenapa?" He hasn't seen the girl's father in a while. After the kidnapping, he was engrossed in his work — participating in a rescue mission without sending a prior notice to the police higher-ups was close enough to cause several near heart-attacks and many news reporters following him around. It was nearly two months ago, closing to the third month, and while he'd rather eat his fist than admitting it, Ridwan misses Haedar terribly.

Abandoning pretenses, Cantika huffs an angry breath and leans forward on his desk, both hands propped against the wooden surface. "Pak Ridwan kemana aja? Kenapa ngga pernah jenguk Bapak lagi?" she demands, her eyebrows drawn into one mighty frown. Ridwan is still staring at her, wide-eyed with surprise and before he has the chance to reply, Cantika already launches into a rant, voice laced with frustration.

"Bapak udah ngga pernah ikut terapi lagi. Jack udah masakin Bapak makanan favoritnya, tapi Bapak cuma mau makan sehari sekali. Belum— belum lagi Bapak—" her breath hitches and to Ridwan's horror, her eyes are glittering with unshed tears. Her words cause Ridwan to step backwards before settling himself on his chair with a loud thump, eyes growing even wider. He never thought — Haedar had said he will be doing just fine without him. There was something impeccably sad when he said the words, but Haedar understands — they are both busy. Ridwan takes a deep breath, trying to settle the roiling in his stomach, easing the grip around his heart. It’s stupid and insensitive of him for ignoring Haedar when the other man clearly needs him.

"Tolonglah, Pak." His head jerks upwards to meet Cantika’s gaze, furious flame in her eyes kindling with sadness and it tugs on his heartstring. “Bantu Bapak,” she adds after a moment, voice breaking a little in the end. Faced with such a display of melancholy, his only choice is defeat, so he nods his head and heaves himself up to his feet.

“Saya— saya minta maaf, saya ngga bermaksud—” His words are hollow even on his tongue, devoid of any meaning but Ridwan feels like he has to  _ say  _ it. “Besok saya kesana.” Though he doubts he will get anything done after this — Cantika’s words are ringing in his head and Ridwan has to swallow guilt that has threatened to swallow him whole.

The girl’s expression hardens and she vehemently shakes her head. Without preamble, she reaches out to wrap strong fingers around his wrist, tugging him from behind his desk. “Bapak ikut saya sekarang.” From anyone, Ridwan might take offense in being dragged around by a girl half his age. But he couldn’t bring himself to protest and just lets her drag him out of his office, only managing to lock the door before following her to the parking lot.

As expected, there is Haedar’s faithful shadow lurking around the corner. Kamal Atmaja rounds on them before walking behind Ridwan, as if making sure he’s not going to run away. He feels hidden gaze locked on him and Ridwan has to suppress a shudder — where the hell did Haedar find them? They’re kidnapping you, his logical mind offers, they’re probably going to dismember you for abandoning their father. Tamping down the urge to flee, Ridwan enters their car, buckles his seatbelt on, and sinks into the seat, all while thinking about how he might not see the sun rise tomorrow.

The entire ride to Haedar’s place — presumably — is tense and quiet. Cantika keeps stealing glances at him from the rear view mirror, the traces of fury and grief no longer visible in her eyes. Next to her, Kamal is quiet though he drives a little above the speed limit. They mutter something to each other, but Ridwan is too caught up in guilt to even bother eavesdropping on them. His mind keeps flashing to how they found Haedar strapped on a chair, all bruised up and in pain, unconscious with blood dripping from the corner of his lips. Haedar, lying in his hospital bed with a fond smile directed to his children and Ridwan, as if he’s become a part of his chaotic, big family. Haedar, who apparently needs his help, and Ridwan wasn’t there all along to help him.

He has resigned to the fact that Haedar’s little assassins might murder him when they set their sight on him — Cantika’s glare and Kamal’s silent rage are enough to give him signs. Ridwan carefully gets out of the car, mindful of his now throbbing head, and falls into steps with Cantika, with Kamal tailing behind them. He has never been to Haedar’s place before, it’s always Haedar who drops by his place. Ridwan remembers how Haedar has said, absentmindedly, that he has to rent a whole floor for his family and refurbished the rooms into one huge room. He said it with a smile, every conversation about his family led Ridwan to admire the soft quirk on his lips and how it’s a good look on the other man.

The elevator dings and halts to a stop, already reaching the top floor of the building. The place is quiet and only several of Haedar’s children scattered around what seems like a living room. Ridwan can recognize Tanto Ginanjar and Adi Sulaiman since they both helped him to retrieve their father and a pair of girls, glaring daggers at him. Cantika lets out a quiet noise in something Ridwan couldn’t place his head on and as he opens his mouth to utter out a question, Haedar walks into the room and stops dead in his track.

Ridwan is, too, frozen in his place and his eyes immediately darts to the other man’s arm which is still on a sling. His eyes meet Haedar’s, surprise clear in his gaze. Next to him, Cantika groans and throws her hands up. “ _ Fucking finally _ !” she exclaims, ignoring Haedar’s warning glare towards her. She siddles towards her siblings, who are bursting into laughter at her antics. Even Kamal, who has been nothing but a quiet shadow behind Ridwan, snorts in amusement and follows her steps to watch his father and Ridwan staring at each other.

“Ridwan, sedang apa—” Haedar starts, still appearing befuddled, before he averts his attention to Cantika, who’s grinning at him. “Cantika,” he murmurs, pitching his voice to carry over the room, before dragging one palm across his face, “kamu ngapain?”

“Maafin Cantika, Pak, tapi Cantika ngga tahan liat Bapak mondar-mandir kaya anak anjing yang abis dibuang pemiliknya kalo Bapak ngga ketemu Pak Ridwan.” Next to her, her siblings are snickering in amusement. “Susah banget, sih, bilang kalo kangen Pak Ridwan,” Cantika grumbles under her breath, sauntering towards the kitchen. As she passes Haedar, Ridwan notices the man has turned several shades of red.

“Kata Cantika kamu ngga pernah makan dan ngga pernah ikut terapi,” Ridwan inquires, eyebrows drawn into a frown and stepping towards the other man, who’s still gaping at him. His eyes are examining Haedar critically — the man looks like he’s gained some weight and he doesn’t appear to be sickly looking or plagued with nightmares. 

The other man makes a sound in vague offense. “Saya ngga pernah bolos terapi,” he retorts calmly, though he’s still staring at Ridwan as if he’s something foreign. “Saya makan empat kali sehari, karena Jack sedang di rumah dan selalu masak yang enak-enak.” Ridwan catches how Haedar's unbind hand twitches, an aborted movement that causes Ridwan to huff a breath.

"Saya ditipu sama anak-anak," he utters out loud, shaking his head in disbelief, "saya ditipu sama anak-anak kamu." Ridwan shoots Haedar a look and chuckling quietly to himself as the other man returns his stare in equal mortification. "Saya ngga tahu apa-apa soal ini," Haedar starts, though his fingers twitch again on his side. His gaze is piercing, and before Ridwan could say anything, Haedar has an arm around his shoulders, already drawing Ridwan into his embrace. 

"Saya rindu." Ridwan feels rather than hears, the words soft against the top of his head. With a quiet chuckle, he wraps his arms around the taller man's waist, face pressed against one broad shoulder. Ignoring the whooping and hollering from the kitchen, Ridwan brushes a kiss against the Haedar's scared face, mindful of his injured arm. "Saya juga rindu," he says finally, pulling away from the hug but still within arm reach. Their fingers are tangled, and as Ridwan glances up, there is a wide smile on Haedar's face.

Cantika lets out a loud cough, clearing her throat obnoxiously as she walks by, ushering her siblings away. "Ayo, ayo, tidur. Biar Bapak sama Pak Ridwan bisa—" she snaps her mouth close abruptly and sends a meaningful look towards Ridwan. Against him, Haedar makes an exasperated noise, hiding his face on the top of his head. "Di atas kompor ada makanan yang Jack bikin tadi sore." With that, the door slams close and it's only Ridwan and Haedar in the living room.

Ridwan watches the closed door with a fond smile, shaking his head again. "Anak-anak kamu mengerikan," he concludes, giving Haedar's hand a reassuring squeeze. They will be terrifying in several years, especially the girls who glared at him. “Maaf saya ngga jenguk kamu,” Ridwan murmurs because it’s only right for him to say that — it’s been two months since they saw each other and there is no excuse for that. 

The other man only smiles at him and leans in to brush his lips against his forehead, his lips linger for a moment. “Ngga apa-apa, saya tahu kamu sibuk.” They stay like that for a while, relishing the close proximity between them before Ridwan’s stomach decides that it’s enough and growls loudly. He groans, placing a hand on his stomach, and hides his face on the crook of Haedar’s neck to hide his embarrassment. The other man is cackling, after a momentary pause in surprise, and untangles himself from Ridwan. 

“Pasti kamu belum makan,” he says, voice neutral but his eyes are alight with mirth, and proceeds to steer Ridwan towards the kitchen. As Ridwan plops down on the chair, Haedar fussing around him, he could see Cantika’s face peeking out of the room with joy tangible in her face. “ _ Jangan lupa pakai kondom _ ,” she mouths at him, grinning. Smothering a laugh in his palms, Ridwan shakes his head in disbelief — these kids are  _ terrifying _ .

**Author's Note:**

> im vibrating and ready to hatch. this has been sitting in my brain for days so i thought why not fucking write it? this fic sounds better in my head, idk why. also, whats pengkor real name, is it haidar or haedar?????


End file.
